


Welcome to (cat) parenthood

by Wrathofscribbles



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 12:11:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17022381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrathofscribbles/pseuds/Wrathofscribbles
Summary: He signed up to be a boyfriend.Aboyfriend.Nowhere did he see mention of "dad", too.





	1. Day 1 (technically)

**Author's Note:**

> **Big bold reminder that Final Fantasy XV and all of its content is property of Square Enix.** I just like to play in the sandpit they've created for the fans.
> 
> Behold! A sequel! To the Promptio "sorry I'm late" fic, specifically. It's going to be crack, with a dash of fluff thrown in, so don't take it seriously XD
> 
> **And a special shoutout** to NekoAisu for being a wonderful soundboard for the random shenanigans due to take place in this thing, and for contributing ideas. You're a star ♡

If someone asked Ignis how he intended to spend his Saturday morning he would have said in the company of his boyfriend, making breakfast together, laughing and joking and maybe getting a little _too_ handsy to be safe around the stove.  Maybe curled up in his favourite armchair - an ancient thing with more creaks in it than his uncle's bones, pushed beyond its usage to the point his ass falls below the frame and Noctis has to fish him from it when he dozes - with one of Gladio's recent promises of "a good read".  Maybe even going over reports or his new studies on the side, tucking his toes into the soft comfort of a blanket to ward off the chill, balcony doors open to the muted grumblings of the city slowly coming awake.

He would _not_ have predicted the hellish, nerve-wracking ride to one of the few veterinarian practices open to drop-in appointments on a weekend, eyes bouncing between all three mirrors and head on a goddamn swivel to keep track of the furred menace worming its way into every conceivable - and otherwise! - nook and cranny of his car, swearing up a storm when said creature bolts from the brake pedal in favour of _climbing up his leg_.  In hindsight?  They should have invested in a cat carrier first, but he'd thought it more important to eliminate the risk of any _baby menaces_ in their future.  He also wouldn't have predicted the relentless assault on his eardrums of cats and dogs yowling at one another the entire time it takes him to fill out registration forms and contact details and read the documents relating to payment plans and pet insurance... while juggling his new feline companion between both arms and shoulders, his neck and (atop) his head.  All while the receptionist fails to keep her amusement at his expense from her face.

"Never had a cat before?" she asks, as if it isn't bloody well obvious.

"No," he replies, just a tad more curt than he'd intended, "my boyfriend's grand plans are seldom encountered twice."

"Would you like a cat carrier?" and just like that any respect she might have earned for not missing a beat at mention of his choice in partner goes up in smoke, replaced by irritation so sharp and sudden it truly is a miracle he doesn't incinerate her on the spot.

If someone asked Ignis how he intended to spend his Saturday morning he most definitely _would not_ have said "wrestling a contortionist cat into a pet carrier" while determining the most creative way to kill Noctis for adopting the little bastard.  But _aside_ from that, his morning goes well.  He signs off the necessary forms and confirms his mobile number for them to call when Ash is ready to be collected and off he goes to a couple of pet stores to get a collar, bowl, food, litterbox, and toys.  So many toys - a godsend that nobody else has access to his bank statements else he'd _never_ hear the end of the resulting price tag.

If it keeps Ash and Noctis happy at the end of the day, though, every penny is one well spent.  He adores them both.


	2. Day 3

Their apartment has been turned into a deathtrap and only Ignis is willing to admit it (Noct's denial is stronger than the might of the Astrals combined).  Between Ash eating his biscuits anywhere and everywhere _bar over his food bowl_ , dropping catnip-stuffed mice in their shoes, and turning their hallway into a minefield of squeaky things or fluff and bits of murdered toys (which he keeps thinking are spiders under his bare feet and has since taken to wearing slippers - because of a _cat_ ), getting up in the middle of the night for a glass of water is an extreme exercise in patience, blind navigation, flexibility, and a willingness to hop, skip, and jump when he's still half asleep and longing to be curled up by the living furnace that is the animal loving _pain in the ass_ his heart belongs to.

He can't simply leave a glass on the bedside cabinet, oh no, not unless he wants to drink water contaminated by cat tongue and biscuit crumbs.  And a bottle's out of the question, too, since he prefers the water _cold_.  So, for the third night in a row, he _shuffles_ rather than take proper steps in the hopes of nudging toys out of his path, all while Noctis snores on, utterly oblivious to this unexpected struggle thrown into their lives.

A moment of celebration for finding the kitchen without incident (the swish of slipper on carpet shifts to a scuff on the linoleum) is little more than a sigh of relief.  No sudden makeouts with the wall, no furiously hissed tirades for clonking his toe on a solid ball the size of his fist, no hugging the ceiling light for honking a goose underfoot, no crashes, no bangs, no calamities Noctis sleeps through like a dead man.  Progress has been made this night!  He navigates to the sink without issue and is quietly delighted to discover all the items left on the drying rack are _still there_ and in one piece.   _Including_ his glass, and yes, fair enough, if he was to mention this on his anonymous blog he'd likely have comments of an overreaction but... he signed up to be Noct's _boyfriend_.  Not also a cat parent.  Let him have his silent victor-

"MOTHERFUCKING BAHAMUT ON TOAST!"

* * *

Some fifteen minutes later when his heart has stopped galloping in his chest, Ash has scampered down from his perch on the fridge, and Noctis is somewhat coherent between fits of laughter, he manages to articulate the horror of the fridge light reflecting off a pair of eyes _right there_ above his head, very aptly, with lots of hand waving and a simple:

"Your cat is a daemon-eyed _menace_ , Noctis." he can _feel_ ten years flaking off his lifespan, the shiver in his hair follicles as they debate turning prematurely grey.  And the moral support he gets?  Noctis tucking into his side and wrapping arms around his waist and offering kisses to his throat.  Which is... very nice... and the manipulative little shit knows it.

_"Our_ daemon-eyed menace, Iggy.  You filled out the vet papers and put both our names down."

"I did not anticipate _attempted murder_ in my own home."

"You love him, really.  You can't fool me, Ignis."

And right on cue, there's the cat in question headbutting his hand for some pets.

... Goddammit.


End file.
